Bleeding Pens and Crumbled Paper

Roses with Thorns

I thought I loved a girl named Andrea,

She was as sweet as she was bold

With cherry colored hair, and green eyes.

She attracted everyone who gazed upon her.

She was born rich in a mansion, and now resides

In a very old rambler that saw the Civil War.

She dated me, for several months, I loved her.

Then on Valantines day, she found someone else,

Someone better looking maybe, or more athletic.

And she discarded me like an old toy.

And went for that other guy.

She is a rose with thorns.

Great to have, but dangerous.

She would put out your eyes, 

As soon as you disturbed her.

I guess carma got to her,

Because while she was once very rich,

In a mansion in Granite Ranch,

where the houses reached the sky,

She now lives on a ranch,

smelling of manure inside and out,

With a foster family, and a dad 

That works three jobs,

And a mom that has three hangovers a day.

I thought I loved a girl named Andrea,

She was as sweet as she was bold

With cherry colored hair, and green eyes.

She attracted everyone who gazed upon her.

She was born rich in a mansion, and now resides

In a very old rambler that saw the Civil War.

She dated me, for several months, I loved her.

Then on Valantines day, she found someone else,

Someone better looking maybe, or more athletic.

And she discarded me like an old toy.

And went for that other guy.

I guess carma's a bitch,

To all that get wrapped up in themselves.

Aren't I right, Andrea?